


To Cure the Common Cold

by birbwithbagpipes



Series: Dead Inquisitor x Romance Character [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, idea i had after i thought about medieval medicine, please cry with me, she dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbwithbagpipes/pseuds/birbwithbagpipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen X Inquisitor </p>
<p>After finding a Dalish child in the Emerald Graves, our Lady Herald falls ill to a fatal disease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Cure the Common Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [birbwithbagpipes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbwithbagpipes/gifts), [u sick little birb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=u+sick+little+birb), [that me :3](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=that+me+%3A3).



     There was something in the air, falling low over the party’s head as they scavenged the rest of the Templar camp. It twisted and turned knowing them and gently whispering through their clothes. The one bearing the Anchor knew it well and wearily kept their distance, the thing a constant invisible companion. It controlled the Anchor, followed it and kept it intact, they were separate and individual, together but alone.

     “Inquisitor, over here!”

     She looked up quickly, a devious grin etched across her face while in her hand a crumpled paper. Just minutes before the area had a quiet serene sense about it despite the obvious Templar camp. Now it was less than serene, the deer gone and blood painted on the grass. Cole sat next to a Templar, his face distressed as he closed the dead man’s eyes.

     He’d been the last one alive and the one who put up the biggest fight. The Inquisitor personally took him down after he caught her off-guard and grazed her right arm. She bled for a bit but the Anchor made short work of fixing the damage. Someone other than the Inquisitor noticed but was afraid of saying anything at the time.

     She wiped off her blade, re-sheathed it and she strode over to where Sera stood peering into the back of the cave.

     “It’s a Dalish kid,” Sera scoffed, “The hell he doin’ out here by himself?”

     The Inquisitor squinted into the dark, where indeed it was an elf boy, but there was something unsettling about his appearance that frightened her.

     “Leave him,” As she turned to walk away Sera grabbed her arm.

     “You can’t be serious? Yeah, I know he’s Dalish and it’s shite they left him here, but that don’t mean we can’t do nothin’ about it.”

     She stared at Sera, not thinking about the boy, but paranoid about Sera’s fingers wrapped around her arm. She could physically feel her heartbeat elevate in fear, each digit fat and as if around her throat instead. Her fingers twitched and she jerked away.

     “Fine,” She stalked deeper into the cave, her stomach tightening with each step, something was wrong with this kid and the Anchor knew it. It tugged and pulled to get closer and touch him, begging to wrap itself around him and seep into his body like it’d done to her.

     He was smaller than an elven boy should be, his frame thin and skin tight around his bones. His face was gaunt and eyes glassy, every once and while he’d muster the strength to cough. When he moved, it was slow and as if something or someone was controlling him. It was as if there were two instead of one.

     Her breath caught in the air and she forced herself to crouch down in front of him, “What is your name da’len?” The Anchor twisted in on itself and sliced away at the nerves for him.

     “Venali,” His voice a hoarse whisper and his body became overcome with violent coughing.

      She resisted the urge to jump up and run away as fast as she could, pressing herself to ask, “Why’d your clan abandon you Venali?”

     “They didn’t abandon me!” He squeaked, “Mama said they’d be back in three days time.”

     “How long ago was that?”

     He seemed to think about it for a moment as sudden realization came over him, “I can’t remember....”

     Sadness scratched in the back of her throat as she tried to find the words, “Where’d they say they were going?”

     His eyes glazed over and he shrank into himself, “I don’t know.”

     “Well that’s enough of that,” She jumped up and motioned for him to do the same, “You’re coming with us, I’m sure there’ll be a place for you somewhere.”

     “I can’t get up,” His voice practically a soft breeze, “I can’t.”

     “By the Maker,” She muttered and picked up the child, “Better?”

     He nodded lightly and buried his face into her neck without another word. The Inquisitor felt every nerve in her body ignite as his skin touched hers. She took a moment before facing Sera to collect herself, every fear justified as she suddenly turned numb.

     “Let’s go home,” Lavellan murmured as she passed the elf woman and avoided eye contact with Cole, who’d jumped to his feet and floated nervously behind her.

     “Inquisitor?” He asked nervously, “Are you-”

     “I’m fine,” She cut him off viciously, after taking a few steps she paused and mumbled under her breath,  “Let’s go.”

 

~Later that night~

     “Then the Inquisitor hit him upside the head and swung that friggen sword like a bat, sendin’ him flying into the fire! Poor bastard caught immediately,” Sera stood with one foot on the table leaning over her knee with a devious grin, “Dunno where he went, prolly wasn’t far tho, stopped screaming like a minute later.”

     The hall erupted in laughter as Sera re-enacted how she imagined the man died.  

     “Another strike for the Inquisition!”

     “Down with Corpheryus!”

     “Starting with Samson,” Cullen chimed in, “These letters you recovered will be the end of him.”

     “Speaking of which,” Dorian piped up and looked around the mess hall, “Where is our Great Leader? It’s not like her to be this late.”

     “I saw her disappear into into her quarters before sundown,” Krem provided, “Nearly ran me over leaving Solas’, he didn’t look too happy neither.”

     “I’ll fetch her,” Cullen offered and slowly rose to his feet.

     “Why do I feel like you’re just saying that to cover up the fact we won’t see you for the rest of the night either?” Dorian asked curiously with his chin perched on his folded hands.

     The hall laughed again as Cullen tried to hide his bemusement, “I’ll be right back.”

     He stepped over the bench and trudged his way around the table for the door, pausing to pat a soldier on the back to remind him not to be late for tomorrow's training. The soldier nodded absent mindedly, already absorbed in another one of Sera’s stories.

     Cullen shook his head and stood at the door for a moment to look over his people with a smile. He then pushed it open and bright yellow light poured out into the dark night, his shadow cast long and perfectly outlined. As it swung shut he was plunged into the sweet serenity of darkness, with only the stars and few illuminated windows as a guide.

     He closed his eyes and tasted the air, crisp mountain breeze gently swept across the battlements, kissing his hair as he made his way towards the Main Hall. He stopped once more at the mid landing that over-looked the other side of Skyhold, a cat scurried it’s way into the barn.

     Cullen slowly went up the last set of stairs where, not to his surprise, Varric and Hawke sat together in front of the fire mumbling together. A third figure sat with them, a hood pulled far over their head but they were listening too attentively to realize that the white marks on their neck were clearly visible. The two looked up at Cullen and hesitated to continue, their eyes desperate and shifty.

     “What’d you do this time?”

     “Ah, well,” Varric tried to answer without looking at him.

     “ _I will not_!” An infuriated scream bounced off the walls and rushed out of Solas’s office.

     “See for yourself,” Hawke grumbled as they drank from a mug.

     “But Curly,” Varric grabbed Cullen’s wrist as he passed him, “Whatever you find out in there you should probably promise to keep a level head about it all.”

     “Alright,” He nodded slowly and proceeded into the office, where Cole was perched on the table with his arms folded and Solas trying to dissuade him down.

     “It is the only way, it must be done!” Solas demanded furiously, he lunged for the boy but he jumped to the side.

     “I _will not_ hurt people!” Cole shouted back with the same amount of tenacity. He pointed to a frightened shape curled up on the over-sized couch, “You can do whatever you want to him, but I will not hurt her!"

     “Cole please! Something must be done!” Solas urged, pleading now, “We can not waste time debating what to do, we must act quickly.”

     What’s going on with you two?” Cullen asked cautiously, still stuck in the doorframe.

     “Commander!” Cole was about to jump to his side but paused, his face fell, his voice soft, “You don’t know, do you?”

     “Know what?”

     Solas turned to face him grimly, “I apologize, I should have informed you sooner, but in my haste, I sought to find a solution first before bringing everyone into panic.”

     “Solas,” A wave of irritation came over Cullen, “Tell me what’s going on and don’t try to dance around it.”

     “The Inquisitor is dying,” Cole stated plainly, “She’ll be dead before tomorrow.”

     Cullen’s heart dropped and his pupils dilated as his throat went dry, “W-what?”

     “I’m sorry Commander,” Solas tried, eyeing Cole irritably, “There was nothing we could do for her.”

     “You should’ve told me!” Cullen shouted in the apostate’s face as he stormed out. He ran past the table and through the empty court room to the far left door. With each step dread built up inside him that turned into a cold sweat. He bit back the chattering feeling and threw open the door, cursing the engineers that never bother to finish the walkway to the next set of stairs.

     He practically ripped the finally door of it’s hinges and started to run but stopped in mid stride at the sight of the Inquisitor lying passed out on the stairs.

     “Lavellan!” His voice a child’s cry as he knelt down to her side, “Darling?”

     She stirred at his touch. Her eyes were no longer her own, looking, looking, searching and seeking for some sort of understanding. It was as if she was staring right through him, but got lost halfway through and couldn’t remember why she’d looked in the first place.

     Her voice was hoarse and practically gone as she smiled, “Ma vhenan….”

     He searched her face, trying his best to deny that there was anything wrong. His heart ached, his knees trembled, her skin was so _cold_. She closed her eyes and tried to brush a strand of hair away, just waving off a ghost that wasn’t there.

     “Carry me upstairs,” She sighed softly, her voice slow and each word drawn out, “I’m tired.”

     Cullen nodded somberly and scoped her up. She slipped her hands around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder. Her left arm, normally covered with heavy material and a solid glove had been savagely ripped away to shreds, revealing large lesions. They were pus filled and half of them already mutilated from incessant scratching, he cringed at the thought of her writhing alone and in pain.

     “I never should’ve sent you out there,” He started to apologize, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, “Samson was my prerogative, I -”

     “Hush,” She cupped his cheek and trailed off, “hush….. _hush_ …..” They continued up slowly in silence, she would cough and lightly shift, about to the top she whispered, “I’m sorry darling….. _I’m sorry_ …..I didn’t want…..”

     “You hush,” He mumbled flirtatiously into her hair as he looked out the balcony windows. He stared at the far-off mountains for a moment, the tears still slipping down his face and he sniffed once or twice before looking back down at her, with a grin, “Maker you look awful.”

     “I know right?” She chuckled with her eyes half open, “.....almost as bad as you.”

     “Than me?” He laughed and walked over to the bed, “Probably, remember when we first got here?”

     She let go as he set her down, “You were a nervous wreck, you didn’t sleep….didn’t eat…. Do you remember when I came in one night and you were just staring into a corner? You had no idea how long you’d been standing there.”

     Cullen smiled. As she was talking, he’d gone over her desk and saw the letters they’d sent each other by bird when they were apart, strewed about. He picked up the most recent, trying to read the words through blurry eyes, his voice started to shake, “I remember.”

     “You changed after that,” She was watching him, he set the letter back down and turned to face her, “You smiled more, talked less.”

     “As were your orders,” He didn’t attempt to fake a smile as he went back to their bed and crawled in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, “Maker, how did this happen?”

     “For the Inquisition!” She cried out playfully, a small coughing fit came over her and as it passed she finished with, “For our lives….”

     “ _No_ ,” He cut her off and tightened his grasp so quickly she gasped, “Not yours.”

     “By no fault of my own,” She grumbled. Cullen relaxed, embracing her more gently this time as they both fell silent an drifted to sleep.

It was early now and the room was just starting to fill with morning light. Cullen had been awake for hours now, barely sleeping at all for that matter. He stared blankly the wall, clutching the woman close to his chest.

He’d never get a chance to hold her like this again, to be familiar with the scent of her hair, the feel of her skin. They’d never laugh together again, her body would be taken away and put on display for the funeral processions. Then to be cremated and lost to the wind.

The room would be gone, all of their possessions to be taken back to her clan and whoever would be the next Inquisitor would take the space. There would be no winning against Corypheus.

It was somewhere between their final conversation and after he woke, and maybe when he did, he knew. Cullen cried. It was soft at first, then hard like rain, his wails echoing off the walls and spilling over the balcony to those below to pry, pray and mourn with him. He shook and cursed and spat and soon he was too tired to scream, she was gone.

 


End file.
